


Miss Fake Number

by jeien



Category: Sound Horizon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ido being Ido, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeien/pseuds/jeien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ido never listened to Cortez when he gave sound advice. So when he finally scored the number of the hot, busty babe at the club and Cortez told him not to call, of course Ido didn’t listen.</p><p>(Based off the scenario: "Someone gave me a fake phone number and it’s actually yours.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miss Fake Number

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tinuviel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinuviel/gifts).



> The submarine ship lives on.

Ido never listened to Cortez when he gave sound advice. So when he finally scored the number of the hot, busty babe at the club and Cortez told him not to call, of course Ido didn’t listen. He dialed her number once they ambled back into their shared flat and awaited the sweet voice to drift into his ears after the phone’s rings.

“Whoever this is,” a stern and altogether different voice said, “you realize it’s three in the morning, don’t you?”

Cortez noticed that Ido’s mouth hesitated and began to vehemently mouth off _NO_ ’s and _HANG UP RIGHT NOW_ ’s after coming to the conclusion that the girl gave him a fake number. Ido’s mouth began to curl up into a smirk. Sure, it wasn’t the hot, busty babe from the club, but the low, mature timbre off this lovely voice was more than passable. There was just something about it that was vaguely familiar, too.

“Sorry, baby,” he apologized, causing Cortez to sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. “But hey, since you picked up, how about we have a nice little chat, hm?”

The other line went dead immediately.

“Huh, she hung up. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Idolfried Ehrenberg,” Cortez addressed, concretely done with his flatmate’s shenanigans and contemplating on whether he should just find a new place to live, “you are a fucking idiot.”

It’s not like he could help it, Ido would usually say. He was a man whose conceptual id always won out. Of course, Cortez would always tell him that there’s a reason why ‘id’ was part of the word ‘idiot.’ But that was boring. So, once more, he merely waved off the insult and bid his flatmate good night as they both went to bed. Ido stayed awake a little while longer to keep the remnants of the woman’s voice echoing in his head in an attempt to commit it to memory.

The next morning, he was nursing a hangover by himself since Cortez decided that leaving him alone after drinking so much would be punishment enough. (There was also the fact that Cortez did not want to be around to witness another failed attempt at hitting on Miss Fake Number, but that was only a small percentage of the entire reason.) It hit him shortly after drinking his specially made hangover remedy that _Oh fuck, it’s a weekday and I need to go to my shitty job because money_. He took a look at the kitchen clock, whose LED lights damningly informed him that it was twenty minutes to eight and he better get his ass out of the flat within the next five minutes if he didn’t want to be late.

Sure, Ido could do a lot better than a janitorial job at the private college two towns over—but, again, his poor life choices (which included: dropping out of high school, accidentally knocking someone up, having to move across the country to avoid being pegged for the knocking someone up bit, dropping out of college after getting a diploma equivalent, lots of partying, and every sinful act under the sun) could only lead him so far. He parked his car in the staff parking lot and sprinted across campus to make it to the little room he called his “office” in the dungeons of the liberal arts building’s basement floor. He was trying to avoid running into trouble with his boss again, but managed to run into something else entirely.

“Whoa!” He was lucky that they only collided shoulders; Ido had been running so fast that the force of knocking shoulders with someone else spun him around completely. He quickly glanced at the woman—who looked like a female professor that miraculously saved her coffee from spilling everywhere—and started apologizing, “Sorry about that! You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she responded. There was a pause before she added, as an afterthought, “Um, thank you.”

It took a few moments for the voice to register, but by the time Ido’s brain managed to put the pieces together, she was already walking away and he was about to be late clocking in. So he sped off again, suddenly very giddy at somehow bumping into Miss Fake Number.

When he called her again after dinner (much to Cortez’s dismay), the first thing she said when she surprisingly picked up was, “Idolfried, I’m going to ask you to please stop falling for people giving you wrong numbers and calling them.”

“I’m hurt, Professor Ludowing,” he replied, putting some emotion into his voice. Therese von Ludowing worked in a different building entirely as a science professor, but they do cross each other in the campus cafeteria every now and then. Besides, Ido’s reputation probably preceded him anyway. “Don’t you know it’s much too early to go clubbing? If you weren’t so beautiful, I’d be offended at your jab on my intellect.”

A sigh came from the other side of the phone, “What could you possibly want from me?”

“Just a little chit chat. Madness happens upon a man who hears no voice other than his nagging flatmate and a bunch of other men he doesn’t care for. I needed the soothing touch of a lady and what better lady than the professor who’s currently teaching a special course on medieval medicine?”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“By swooning?”

“I’m leaning more towards feeling offended.”

Ido couldn’t help but laugh. But it had to mean something considering she was still talking to him. “Really, though, if I had to be doing anything with my copious amounts of free time, I’d love for it to be listening to your voice.”

“Then quit wasting your potential and go actually do something productive,” Professor Ludowing said. Her tone shifted to Lecture Mode and Ido had to wonder, by the way he was thinking about actually hanging up, if this was part of her plan. “If you can only put nearly as much effort into other things like you do with your flirting, you’d be on your way to an actual degree. Speaking of, certain people with them—namely me—are actually very busy right now, so I’ll be going now.”

“You know I’ll just keep calling back.”

“I can file for harassment.”

For some reason, Ido didn’t just want this to be the end of the conversation. Corny as it sounded, it felt like it would end their entire exchange with one another for the rest of their lives. But then, his id pulled through with an idea: “Then how about a deal?”

“I really have no time for this—”

“I’ll go back to school and get my degree. I was thinking oceanography and since that’s technically a science, I was thinking that you can help me get started again.”

Professor Ludowing sighed again, “Idolfried, you cannot just go doing things like this on a whim, especially if it’s for the sole purpose of ‘listening to my voice’ all the time.”

“I’m serious this time,” Ido admitted. “It might be a little too much information, but I need to send child support somewhere and, in the long term, my current pay just won’t do. Besides, my flatmate’s been threatening to kick me out if I don’t get my shit together.”

No words were exchanged for a few short moments. Ido almost figured she hung up, but he heard the faint call of _Mutti, I’m gonna go to bed now!_ from the other side of the line. There was a muffled _Okay, sweetie; I’ll be there to tuck you in_ before she spoke again.

“Come by the science department office tomorrow during my hours.”

“Really?”

“It’ll be difficult and I honestly might regret doing this, but it’s worth a shot. It’ll also hopefully keep you busy enough to stop being a playboy.”

He chuckled. “It’s a date then.”

“Think of it as you will.”

Ido made the gesture of scoring something big and turned to see Cortez with an incredulous look on his face. He waggled his eyebrows at his stunned flatmate and said, “Well? What do you think about that?”

“I can’t believe you.” Cortez took a seat on the sofa next to Ido and leaned back, crossing his arms. “You realize you’re gonna have to work your ass off now, right?”

“Mmhm.”

“And that you might have to go looking for another job to pay tuition.”

“Eh, a few big people owe me some favors.”

Cortez shifted his position to look Ido dead in the eyes. “ _And_ that you’re gonna have to stop being an idiot playboy.”

“My dear Hernan,” Ido addressed, clapping a hand on his flatmate’s shoulder, “that part of me will never change. I’ll just have to redirect my masculine wiles onto Professor Ludowing.”


End file.
